Inevitable
by Gracielinn
Summary: in.ev.i.ta.ble (adj.) "Incapable of being avoided or prevented." (TFP)


_NOTE #1 - This Wyatt P.O.V. one-shot is canon compliant through Season One Episode 12 and goes AU starting with Episode 13 (Karma Chameleon)._

 _NOTE #2 - This is my response to the following Timeless Fanfic Prompt: A character gains something they desire, but knows they will lose it again. This could be an object, a person, or something abstract._

Inevitable

Wyatt tapped his fingers restlessly on the bar, nursing his drink, and struggled to control his impatience while he waited for Rufus. Well aware that he would be springing a hastily-conceived plan on his friend with very little notice, he had kept his text purposefully vague, more than a little afraid Rufus would think to contact Lucy and drag her along to this clandestine meeting. Her unexpected presence could turn an already risky situation into an even bigger mess than what he had tried to prepare for, which was the reason Wyatt had no intention of getting Lucy involved any more than he absolutely needed her to be.

Jesus, just the thought of what he intended to ask her made him sick to his stomach. It wasn't fair to her at all, but Wyatt was just so utterly desperate. And to make matters worse (if that was even possible), he knew his timing stopped just short of egregious as far as Lucy was personally concerned. Even as consumed with concocting this scheme as he had been since his little chat with Wes Gillam, Wyatt was actually very much conscious of the fact that after the team's return from the disastrous Jesse James mission, he had failed her, both as a friend and teammate.

As obsessed with Jessica as he had been, it had taken him a little while when they first arrived in 1883 to notice that something was wrong with Lucy. No matter the threat to history or inherent danger the team was sure to encounter, Lucy never lost that almost child-like sense of wonder as her beloved history unfolded right before her eyes. Once he climbed out of his own head to try and concentrate on the task at hand, he had noticed how unresponsive and preoccupied she was, and it kind of freaked him out. Wyatt cringed inwardly as he remembered the resigned expression on Lucy's face when he scolded her for her inattention.

That evening around the campfire, both he and Rufus had been stunned by her miserable confession that she had forgotten her sister's birthday and just wanted to go home, and if his head hadn't been so firmly planted up his ass, he would have immediately understood that as far as Lucy was concerned, her failure to remember Amy's birthday was unforgivable. And dammit, the situation just went steadily downhill from there.

As long as he lived, he would never forget the terrified yet determined look on her face just hours later as the infamous outlaw fell to his knees in front of Wyatt, or the way her hands shook around the gun. She had felt so strongly that James couldn't be allowed to live and continue his callous, murderous ways through history, that when Bass Reeves insisted that Wyatt was not to take the bastard's life, Lucy took matters into her own hands in a way that had to have torn away a piece of her soul.

His gentle, kind-hearted friend, who to his knowledge had rarely even held a weapon, had killed an unarmed man by shooting him in the back. Even now, Wyatt could scarcely wrap his mind around that. But instead of trying to comfort Lucy as she struggled to deal with the likely resulting emotional trauma, practically the moment they returned to 2017, he had turned his back on her and selfishly resumed his quest to prevent his wife's death. In the short time he had known her, Lucy had steadfastly time and again proved her unwavering loyalty to him, and to Rufus, and Wyatt had never felt so undeserving of such faith in his life.

Bad enough that what he was proposing would potentially be endangering Rufus' life (although thankfully, the pilot was getting much better at handling himself). On the other hand, no way in hell would Wyatt risk any harm befalling Lucy. After letting Flynn take her from him in 1780, and then barely stopping H.H. Holmes from killing her in 1893, he was self-aware enough to understand all too well that he couldn't lose another woman he cared about and have any hope of keeping his sanity.

And God help him, but for his plan to succeed, Wyatt needed to take advantage of Lucy in the worst possible way by asking for her help when he knew without question she was unable to deny him anything. Because she tended to wear her emotions on her sleeve, he suspected quite some time ago that she might be developing feelings for him. He'd been on the sidelines of the relationship game for years now, but Wyatt was still able to sense when a woman was attracted to him.

Looking back, it was perhaps inevitable, given the enormous amount of time he and Lucy spent together, usually in intense, often life-threatening situations that depended heavily on a tremendous amount of trust and a special kind of intimacy between members of the team. And, unfortunately, the very nature of their missions tended to isolate the trio from everyone around them, no matter how well-informed the others were (in theory) about the mechanics of time travel. He, Lucy, and Rufus shared a bond like no other he had ever experienced, and Wyatt had come to care for both of them very much in a short amount of time.

And whether Lucy was aware of it or not, her body language alone betrayed her emotions. The soft, wistful smiles she bestowed on him, a certain look in her big dark eyes at times that she was unable to mask, the occasional touch of her slim hands only served to confirm his suspicions. And hell, yeah, a part of him was more than a little interested, and unbelievably tempted, because if Wyatt was being brutally honest with himself, he had been attracted to Lucy almost from the start. Lucy Preston was intelligent, brave, passionate, beautiful, and more, and each mission since that first one had only served to draw the two of them closer together.

In spite of that, Wyatt had ruthlessly squashed down those impulses because he had to stay focused on Jessica. Saving his beloved wife had become the most important objective in Wyatt's life ever since he had learned that time travel was real, the one thing he wanted more than anything, and he absolutely couldn't let his growing attachment to Lucy derail that.

For the past five years, he had lived with the tortured knowledge that he was to blame for Jess getting killed, and if there was the slightest chance that Wyatt could possibly somehow "right" the time line and prevent her tragic death, he had to at least try, no matter the personal consequences. It would all be worth it to have her alive once again. For a split second, he understood with troubling clarity that when it came right down to it, he was most likely sacrificing (at the very least) his friendship with Lucy in hopes of getting his wife back, and that was surprisingly painful to contemplate.

However, his iron resolve concerning Lucy had been severely tested more than once over the past few months. The first time it happened, Wyatt had been completely unprepared for the sharp pang of jealousy he experienced when the team encountered (of all people), super spy Ian Fleming, who had done nothing to hide his interest in the pretty American. The initial thrill of meeting one of his favorite authors in the flesh in 1944 had rapidly dissolved as he watched the suave, confident Englishman put the moves on her, and he fervently wanted to punch Rufus when the other man had calmly observed, "James Bond just hit on Lucy, and she's in to it."

That did not sit well with him at all, and although he was loathe to admit it, his unsettled feelings had probably provoked the argument with Lucy about Von Braun. Wyatt certainly knew the protocol well enough by now to defer to the mission historian when it came to those types of decisions, and her wounded glance did little to appease his temper when she abruptly agreed with Fleming and let the spy whisk her away ( _from his protection, dammit_ ) to change into a Nazi uniform.

Outside, Wyatt had spent a good thirty minutes pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath, until Rufus couldn't take it any more, and advised, "Jeez, man, just go talk to her, 'cause you're making me even more nervous than being probably the only black man in a hundred-mile radius already has," and Wyatt smirked in spite of himself.

So he knocked on the door of the room Fleming had procured for her, but there was no answer. Then he knocked again, with the same results. Starting to get worried, he tried the door knob, and it turned easily in his hand. Wyatt cautiously opened the door only to find a very pale Lucy dressed and leaning on the dresser in front of the mirror, completely oblivious to his presence. Afraid of frightening her, he quietly cleared his throat and said, "Hey," and was dismayed when she jumped, and snapped at him, "Don't you know how to knock?" And felt a little guilty when he told her that he had knocked (twice) and her face reddened even as she blustered, "Well, good for you," before warning him wearily, "I don't want to fight about Von Braun any more."

He watched her silently for a moment, and made a snap decision. Sitting on the arm of a chair by the bed, he tried to suppress his growing concern for her state of mind by encouraging her to open up to him. Wyatt bit back a grin when, even distraught, Lucy had enough presence of mind to sass him about his well-known (to her) lack of talking through a problem. He calmly returned the solemn gaze she directed at him for several moments, and evidently satisfied at what she saw in his face, began to explain what had her so upset.

Even though his heart ached at the story she told him ( _good Lord, no wonder she was claustrophobic_ ), Wyatt tried his best to reassure her, probably more pleased than he should have been at the way she seemed to hang on his every word. He told himself that Lucy was one of his guys now, a soldier in the field, and found himself giving her the same advice he had shared with hundreds of men under his command in the past.

Wyatt was gratified when after careful consideration, Lucy unconsciously straightened her shoulders and gazing up at him, thanked him for his efforts. Before he could get lost in those big doe eyes of hers, he tried to lighten the moment by responding in a way he knew would break the tension, "Sure thing, Ma'am." And to his relief, she merely rolled said gorgeous eyes at him and gave him a tiny smile as he left the room.

He had been so proud of her in the chaotic hours after that. Forced to mingle in a room full of Nazi elite and sympathizers, held at gunpoint by S.S. guards, accosted by Flynn, and yet, Lucy had kept her head and managed to save all their lives when she remembered some obscure fact about priest holes, and except for the existence of a new Bond novel upon their return to the present ( _which was really cool except for the part where the pretty brunette American spy slept with Bond...yeah, like that would have happened_ ), they had managed to preserve the time line.

Soon after, Flynn had dragged the team to 1836 Texas, and Wyatt was bitterly reminded how false his flip assurance to Lucy in Germany that he was "over the hump" was. As the hours ticked excruciatingly forward to the unavoidably tragic end for the brave men and women of the Alamo, Wyatt could feel the darkness in his soul rise up to swallow him. He really wasn't even in his right mind towards the end, not when he willfully decided to basically commit suicide.

And then a fierce, dark-haired angel had refused to let him die as she found him and putting her hands around his neck, begged Wyatt to come with them, and looking into her frantic eyes, the troubling darkness began to recede. He could tell that Lucy was nearly overcome with relief and maybe something more when he shook off the madness and went with her. And all that was before she and Rufus defiantly stood up to the dick from Homeland Security and saved his spot on the team. He firmly tried to silence the voice in his head that rejoiced at the obvious loyalty and fondness for him shining in Lucy's eyes.

However, mere weeks later, those efforts were nearly blown all to hell and back during the hours he and Lucy were forced to spend with Bonnie and Clyde, when a series of unexpectedly intimate moments occurred, one right after the other. Not long after they had arrived at the couple's hideout, a one-room cabin, the four of them had been sitting around a table, eating bologna sandwiches and throwing back some "hooch" while trading stories of their criminal activities.

Wyatt was the first to admit that Lucy's seemingly endless knowledge of historical facts probably saved their lives on a regular basis. As the drinking went on, he had been more than a little concerned at the increasingly sullen look on Clyde Barrow's face (Wyatt was already pretty sure the guy was a sociopath). Unfortunately, Bonnie had spied the ( _in his opinion, way too big and gaudy for her delicate hand_ ) engagement ring Lucy had accidentally forgotten to leave in her locker at Mason Industries, and Wyatt was so intent on salvaging their cover story, that he had impulsively shared the details of his marriage proposal to Jess, acutely aware of Lucy's somber dark gaze on him the whole time.

The next thing he knew, he had his hand around Lucy's slender neck and was tugging her to him, swallowing her tiny gasp. She smelled so good, and her mouth was warm and sweet. His brain practically short circuited when she involuntarily parted her lips in surprise, and Wyatt instinctively deepened the kiss, tracing the curve of her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Several long seconds later, the gentle touch of her slim fingers on his cheek snapped him back to reality, and he desperately tried to hide his stunned reaction to the kiss from Lucy. From her discreet, searching glance, he had the uneasy feeling that he had failed spectacularly.

Not long after, the two of them had settled on the old sofa while Bonnie and Clyde were sitting curled up on a twin bed, and by the suspicious looks being directed their way as he mindlessly twirled his gun, they were apparently just barely passing inspection from a noticeably paranoid Clyde. With Lucy perched like a Sunday School teacher about a foot away from him, they certainly weren't acting like an engaged couple in love, Wyatt told himself. And it clearly didn't help matters either that he had most likely startled Lucy when he finally reached out to pull her slightly stiff body against him.

Convinced that their apparent lack of any past physical intimacy was glaringly obvious, so much so that he half expected Clyde to confront them, Wyatt was unable to help grasping her slight shoulder tighter than was necessary, desperate to wordlessly convey his intentions ( _God, I hope I haven't bruised her pale skin_ ). He bit back a sigh of relief as she began to relax half across his lap, and he was so grateful, Wyatt involuntarily began to gently rub the soft curve of her hip, hoping she would comprehend and accept his unspoken apology.

So another possible misstep in their dangerous charade was averted, and his bid to draw information from the couple about the gold key around Bonnie's neck was successful. As the outlaw lovers began to drink more heavily, Wyatt hoped they would pass out soon because his nerves were getting stretched mighty thin. Unfortunately, before it got that far, a tipsy Bonnie announced it was bed time, and drawing a sheet on a clothesline strung between the two twin beds, cheerfully wished them a good night, a knowing grin on her pretty face.

Wyatt could tell by the faintly panicked expression on her face that Lucy had immediately figured out what was about to happen. Putting a finger to his lips, he said, in a voice just loud enough for Bonnie and Clyde to hear, "Which side of the bed do you want, honey?" and frowned when she continued to stare mutely at him. Wyatt shook his head and holding her gaze intently, he deliberately began undressing, removing his suit vest and loosening his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off.

Secretly, he was flattered and maybe a little bit aroused by the way Lucy's wide eyes darkened and a blush deepened on her cheeks with each piece of clothing he shed. By the time he unzipped his pants, she had taken off her shoes and started to unbutton the cuffs of her dress sleeves, and taking a shuddering breath, turned around so Wyatt could help with the long row of tiny buttons that marched down the back of the dress. Lucy trembled slightly as he painstakingly undid the buttons, and clasping the front of the dress to her, stepped away from him long enough for the dress to drop at her feet.

Wyatt's breath caught when he saw the creamy lace slip she was wearing, and to hide his reaction, he began to carefully drape their clothes on a chair beside the bed while Lucy scooted under the covers. She noticeably shivered when he slid in beside her, and clearing his throat, Wyatt asked in a soft, husky voice if she had enough room. It was a good thing Lucy was as slender as she was, because his shoulders took up about two-thirds of the bed when they were lying on their backs. Her bare skin felt cool and smooth against his, and he didn't object when she moved her arm on top of his in an effort to get more comfortable.

As if sharing a very small bed with Lucy while they were so scantily clad wasn't stressful enough, by the sounds coming from the other side of the makeshift curtain, evidently, Bonnie and Clyde wanted to work off a little bit of steam before falling asleep. And sadly, now that he knew what fate intended for them in the morning, Wyatt found he couldn't begrudge the couple one last night together, even though it was very uncomfortable to hear. At first he was relieved when Lucy started murmuring in a low voice about "only ones" and chemistry (anything to help drown out what was happening a few feet away from them).

But then she mentioned being open to possibilities, and as Wyatt stared up at the water-marked ceiling above their heads, it hit him suddenly exactly what Lucy was getting at, and when he turned his head to look at her, she moved her face even closer on the single pillow they were sharing, dark eyes gazing deeply into his. His male instincts easily read the invitation in her eyes, and Wyatt was taken aback by just how badly he wanted to accept, but before he could make a decision, he heard a masculine snore from the other side of the curtain, and practically jumped out of the bed. He forced himself to concentrate on getting his clothes back on as quickly as he possibly could, and handing Lucy her dress to slip back on, hurriedly did up a few of the buttons for her.

Within minutes, their whole plan began to unravel as both Clyde's missing gang member and Rufus showed up, followed in short order by Flynn and the lawmen who were after Bonnie and Clyde. And, as he truthfully told Agent Christopher on their return, they did barely escape with their lives, all three of them. During their debriefing, Lucy had studiously avoided making eye contact with him, and after he changed back into his clothes and was leaving the locker room, Wyatt nearly walked right into her. Like an idiot, he started babbling about putting on an act for Bonnie and Clyde, but he could tell by the forced nonchalant way she was acting that he probably should have just kept quiet about their kiss.

Things went back to normal, at least what the time team considered normal, after that. Wyatt was disturbed that in spite of his overriding desire to bring Jess back, he very seldom dreamed about her any more like he used to. Instead, he relived that night in 1934 Arkansas more than once, and was dismayed that his subconscious was brave (foolish?) enough to follow through with a second kiss when he and Lucy were in bed together, and at times, even more. Desperate to keep his focus on his wife, he began to pull away slightly from Lucy, and although it pained him greatly when he sensed that she was confused and hurt by his behavior, Wyatt told himself that once Jess was back and they were together again, it would be worth it.

And then all his good intentions went right out the window when they followed Flynn back to 1780. After the terrorist had explained his plan and remarkably, asked for their help, Wyatt had reluctantly agreed and persuaded Lucy that their team should work with Flynn to use Benedict Arnold to finally take down Rittenhouse in the early stages. Their uneasy alliance led them to the founder of the secret organization, a clockmaker named David Rittenhouse, who was even more wily and evil than they could have possibly imagined.

Within minutes, Benedict Arnold was dead by his leader's hand, he and Flynn were disarmed and forced to their knees to be executed, and Wyatt was torn between guilt that he had talked her into going along with this hot mess and a murderous rage when the slimy bastard dared to put his hands on Lucy after deciding he would keep her as his mistress. Mercifully, Rufus came to their rescue, and he was immensely relieved that his resourceful Lucy had managed to get free from Rittenhouse's armed thug.

Flynn had summarily dispatched Rittenhouse, and Wyatt's first feeling was of triumph, that they had actually done it, had hopefully stopped the whole organization from even existing. Then Flynn noticed that the clockmaker's son, John, was no longer in the room, and they decided to split up to find him. Wyatt would never forgive himself for that, because if he had just kept Lucy with him, he could have prevented Flynn from taking her. Even now, late at night when sleep wouldn't come without several drinks, he could still hear her frantically calling his name, having absolute faith that he would save her.

But he failed Lucy that night, and the sickening realization that she had depended on him to keep her safe and he had been unable to do so, nearly crippled Wyatt. It was like reliving his worst nightmare, the night Jess disappeared, over and over again. The four hours it took to recharge the lifeboat before they could even think of rescuing Lucy felt like a hellish eternity.

While Wyatt had quickly changed costumes and paced back and forth on the platform like a man possessed and Rufus had grabbed a short nap, a clever and resourceful Jiya had been able to find the time and location where Flynn had taken the mother ship. Wyatt absolutely refused to consider that Lucy had been left somewhere that he couldn't find her, and so he and Rufus had jumped to Chicago in 1893, desperate to get her back.

After being trapped for hours, and just when he and Rufus had begun to accept that they and the other two victims were never going to leave the so-called murder room alive, he had been overjoyed to hear Lucy's faint voice through the wall. Then the door opened suddenly, and she flew into his arms. "Thank God you're okay," he had fervently whispered into her neck, hugging her tightly to him, and he briefly noted the surprise on her face at his words. But he had meant every single one.

In spite of using all the resolve he could summon for months now, Wyatt was definitely starting to have more than platonic feelings for Lucy Preston. But he still loved his wife and wanted so badly to save her. What kind of man was he, to feel this strongly for two very different women? And when Jess did come back, what would happen to Lucy? Aside from the trip to Chicago to rescue her, he and Lucy had never jumped without each other before. What if he was able to save Jess, but the altered time line meant he had never met Lucy? Wyatt was horrified at the idea of being a stranger to her. But what choice did he have? He had gone round and round in his head now for days, and was still no closer to any type of satisfactory answer he could live with for the rest of his life, so pushing aside everything but his plans to bring Jessica back, here he sat, waiting for Rufus.

His friend was understandably reluctant to get involved in such a shady plan, but more than ever, Wyatt was determined to try, and finally, he let go of any remaining pride he might still have and flat out begged Rufus to pilot the lifeboat. Once Rufus was on board with the plan, although openly troubled that he couldn't tell Jiya, Wyatt pulled together every scrap of courage he had, and drove over to see Lucy. He thought rather pensively that the next few minutes might end up being some of the worst he had ever experienced, and that was saying something, considering his time in the service and the fact that his young wife had been brutally murdered.

Although a sleepy Lucy tried in vain to hide it, Wyatt could see underneath her shock at him showing up on her doorstep in the middle of the night, there was a tiny bit of happiness, too. His chest hurt at the adorably confused expression on her face as he explained what he and Rufus were planning to do, and then she broke his heart just a little when, without hesitation, she declared she was going with them. As he shut that down in a hurry, her look of astonished pain dug sharp claws into his soul, and when Lucy sank down on a step, small hands over her face, her palpable anguish nearly cut him in half.

Much as he had tried to anticipate this moment, Wyatt was completely unprepared for the depths of his wretchedness when she took her hands from her face, straightened her shoulders, and bravely asked, "What do you need me to do?" And worthless, selfish bastard that he was, he told her, and then, unwilling to prolong this agony any longer, turned to leave when Lucy stood up, and stepping over to him, tenderly patted his chest and with a tremulous smile, told him, "Good luck, Wyatt."

At that very moment, Wyatt wanted so badly to fall on his knees before her and beg her forgiveness that he actually swayed slightly. He pulled his act together long enough to stammer, "Thank you ma'am," and gave her an insincere half smile before walking out her door (and quite possibly, out of her life forever).

The trip to 1983 Cleveland was a complete shit show from start to finish, except for the fact that a serial killer's conception had been prevented. Everything else that could possibly go wrong did, in one horrible way after another, with the end result being that a decent man was dead because of him, because of his blind selfishness. As he sat soaked and shivering in the lifeboat with Rufus, Wyatt was overcome with grief and hopelessness, even as the pilot tried to reassure him the bartender's death was a terrible accident. Wyatt knew better though. How many lives had he ruined in his zeal to re-write history? In spite of the fact that numerous times since the team had started time traveling, history had stubbornly refused to change, and there was a very good chance this was one of them.

When the lifeboat landed with the usual bone-jarring, stomach-churning thud, Rufus turned to look at Wyatt, and asked, "Now what?" He shrugged listlessly, "Time to face the music, for me at least. And Rufus, I will never forget what you did for me today, I want you to know that, in case I never see you again." His friend sighed, and patting his shoulder, moved over to the hatch, and pushed the button while Wyatt stayed seated, eyes closed wearily, numbly ready to accept his fate. He would be lucky if he went to prison for less than twenty years, after all the laws he had broken in the past 24 hours.

Rufus cautiously stuck his head outside, and turning back to Wyatt with a puzzled expression on his face, whispered, "Wyatt, there's no one here." Wyatt opened his eyes in confusion, and standing up, peered out of the hatch. The place was deserted, eerily quiet, with only a couple of auxiliary lights shining here and there. Something was very wrong. Hastily pulling his gun out of his holster, Wyatt motioned Rufus to get behind him, and they cautiously climbed down from the lifeboat.

As he and Rufus stood on the platform looking around in bewilderment, they heard footsteps, and suddenly, Lucy and Jiya were running towards the two men, with an extremely pissed-off looking Agent Christopher right behind them. Wyatt quickly holstered his gun as Lucy flung herself into his arms and hugged him so tightly he could hardly breathe, while Jiya did the same to Rufus. Shutting his eyes, Wyatt allowed himself a brief minute to just hold her trembling body to his, knowing it would probably be the last time he got to experience one of Lucy Preston's enthusiastic, one-of-a-kind hugs.

"Thank God you're back, we were so worried," she whispered against his neck, and reluctantly pulled away from him when Agent Christopher started to speak. "First of all," she began brusquely, "I'm glad that both of you have returned safely. Now, with that out of the way, just what the hell were you thinking? Stealing the lifeboat without proper authorization is a federal crime you should probably be court-martialed for, which means that not only would you be dishonorably discharged from the Army, you would likely go to prison for the rest of your life."

As Wyatt regarded her blankly, she huffed at his lack of response to her declaration, and continued, "To be brutally honest, Master Sergeant Logan, you should get on your knees and thank your lucky stars for devoted friends like Lucy and Jiya. After you left Lucy's house the other night, she went and picked up Jiya, and the two of them came to see me, in the middle of the night, I might add. Lucy argued very strenuously for over an hour in your defense, and after we convinced Connor Mason not to press charges, it was decided that Mason Industries would shut down until your return. I believe Mr. Mason told his employees that the whole facility was being fumigated for bugs or something. Even he has stayed away. So there are no witnesses here besides the three of us."

At the stunned expression on Wyatt's face, she relented, and said, "Wyatt, bottom line, you are not going to be arrested, as this little stunt of yours "officially" never happened, but beginning immediately, you are on unpaid leave for the next two weeks, I believe for insubordination. Now, I suggest all of you go home and get some rest. Master Sergeant, you will report directly to me in two weeks, understood?" and then she smiled fondly at him when he managed a dazed, "Yes, Ma'am." Shrugging off profuse thanks from the other three, Agent Christopher bid them good night and left.

After more hugs between the four of them were exchanged, Rufus and Jiya decided to take off, arms wrapped around each other. Lucy handed Wyatt a slim tablet she'd been holding, and taking a deep breath, said, "Wyatt, it seems your trip was a success after all. Not only are Wes Gillam's two other victims alive, I think I may have found Jessica." "What?" he responded disbelievingly. "She's alive? Jess is alive?" And after everything he'd been through in the past 48 hours, Wyatt's legs refused to hold him up any longer as he sank into the nearest chair, buried his face in his hands, and started sobbing. Lucy stood close to him, tenderly rubbing his back and murmuring soothingly.

Wyatt hadn't cried like that since the day Jessica's body was found, and when the tears streaming down his face trailed away into mere hiccups and he eventually glanced up at Lucy, his embarrassment faded at the loving expression she wore. He could live for another hundred years and never deserve a woman like her. Blinking rapidly, he choked out, "Lucy, thank you, thank you for risking everything for me. You saved my life, and even though I know I don't deserve it after the way I acted, I am more grateful than you will ever know," and he almost smiled when her eyes began to well up.

"Hey, now, I think I just cried enough for the both of us," he quietly joked, and threw his arms around her waist and held on tightly as she ran gentle fingers through his disheveled hair. Taking a deep breath, Lucy asked him, "Are you ready to go find your wife?" and Wyatt felt like he was balanced precariously on a tight rope. On one side was the unbelievable chance to resume his life with Jess, and on the other was the tempting possibility of a life with Lucy, and at this very second, he honestly couldn't choose.

At his apparent indecision, Lucy cleared her throat, and putting her hand on his cheek, made the choice for him. With forced cheerfulness, she urged him to go shower and change, and if he wanted, she would go with him to the address that Jiya had found. Standing on shaky limbs, Wyatt suddenly tugged Lucy to him, and clung to her for a long moment before pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. "I'll be right here waiting for you," she assured him, as he nodded his thanks.

Within the hour, they had boarded Connor Mason's private jet and were on their way to San Diego. Lucy had explained that the address they were headed for was actually not far from Camp Pendleton. When he asked about the jet, she had smiled mysteriously and replied, "No need to worry your pretty head about that, Master Sergeant," and his heart leapt at the rush of feelings for her he couldn't seem to control any longer. He abruptly turned his gaze out the small window, and pretended not hear her faint sigh. "Focus," he told himself forcefully, and remained quiet for the remainder of the 90-minute flight.

They rented a small car at the San Diego Airport, and when Lucy gave him the address to plug into the GPS, Wyatt realized that although it wasn't where he and Jess had lived at the time of her death, he was vaguely familiar with the area. Pulling up in front of a modest two-story house with a well-tended yard, Wyatt turned off the car and sat very still, trying desperately to control his overwhelming feelings of sorrow, hope, and fear. He felt Lucy take his hand and smiled at her weakly when she coaxed, "Hey, Wyatt, c'mon, after everything you've been through to get to this moment, you got this. Do you want me to come with you?" and when he wordlessly nodded, squeezed his hand and got out of the car.

Wyatt came around the front of the car and impulsively grabbed her hand and held on tightly as they made their way up the sidewalk. At the front door, he froze, suddenly paralyzed at the swift realization that his life would be changing forever in the next instant. Wyatt looked helplessly at Lucy, and smiling reassuringly at him and tightening her grip on his shaking hand, she reached out and rang the doorbell. Too late, it crossed his mind that this was probably where he lived, and it would be considered strange that he rang his own doorbell.

At the faint sound of approaching footsteps on the other side of the door, Wyatt inhaled sharply and held his breath. The door opened slowly, and God, it was her, it was really Jessica, and his heart stopped as she smiled rather uncertainly and asked, "Yes, can I help you?" Stunned, Wyatt and Lucy looked at each other, and fortunately, Lucy recovered quickly enough to respond, "Um, hi, we're so sorry to bother you, but would you happen to be Jessica Logan?" while Wyatt was unable to utter a single word.

Confusion spread over the pretty blonde's face as she answered, "Well, my first name is Jessica, but my last name is Reynolds, not Logan." While Jess was speaking with Lucy, Wyatt looked more closely at her and began to notice some subtle differences from the wife he remembered. For starters, she was five years older than the last time he had seen her, and in addition to an expensive set of rings on her left hand, this woman's arm was draped protectively over her very rounded stomach. Not to mention the flaxen-haired toddler gazing up at him from where she was wrapped around Jess's leg. "Hi!" the little girl chirped, waving her chubby fingers at them.

He instinctively knelt down to look into the child's face, and saw Jess's big blue eyes staring curiously at him. Wyatt cleared his throat, and said solemnly, "Hi, my name is Wyatt, what's yours?" and was charmed when she grinned at him, "Abby." "That's a pretty name," he told the child, and chuckled when she nodded her head in agreement. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Abby. This is my friend, Lucy," and Lucy smiled at the little girl even as she was discreetly trying to pump Jess for information.

Abby giggled when Wyatt tapped her little freckled nose as he stood up. Hoping it wasn't too noticeable, he couldn't help but stare as his brain tried frantically to process the physical presence of Jess, alive and obviously happy and content, living a very different life than the one she shared with Wyatt. He carefully ran that thought through his mind again, and found only joy, relief, and maybe a touch of pride. No sorrow or pain or jealousy. He and Lucy and Rufus had risked everything for this very moment, and even though the outcome wasn't the one he had originally wished for, it was even better, and Wyatt discovered he was more than fine with that.

He felt a tiny hand patting his leg, and smiled down at Jess's daughter, who was the very image of her mom at that age, and somewhat ironically, could have been his child in another time line. "Abigail," Jess softly scolded as she struggled to pick up the squirming toddler, "Leave the nice man alone." Wyatt looked into his wife's eyes and murmured, "She's okay," as Lucy observed, "You're really going to have your hands full in a few weeks."

Jess laughed, and Wyatt experienced a momentary delight at the familiar sound. "Yeah, probably, 'cause this one is a boy," and all three adults chuckled when Abby patted her mom's bump and declared, "Baby!" Lucy gently touched Jess on the arm and said warmly, "Well, congratulations, Mrs. Reynolds. We better be going, and thank you so much for the information," and as they exchanged smiles, Wyatt marveled at the surreal image of the two women interacting with each other.

The blonde represented his past, a young man's first love, and was his wife for a short time. As for the brunette, well, she was very special, and Wyatt was extremely hopeful that Lucy was his future (if he was lucky and she would have him), because he understood now that he wanted her for his "until the end of his days" forever love. "You're more than welcome," Jess replied, "I better get this one down for a nap. It was nice to meet you both," and she turned and walked inside and out of Wyatt's life forever. He could feel Lucy's anxious gaze, so taking her hand, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, whispering, "Thank you, Lucy." Her concerned dark eyes searched his face, but she only nodded, and they walked hand in hand to the car.

The ride to the airport and the short flight back to San Francisco passed in thoughtful silence. After the cab dropped them off at the still-deserted Mason facility, Wyatt escorted Lucy to her car. He took a deep breath, and looking into her dark eyes, asked, "Lucy, can we talk some time?" and felt optimistic when she smiled shyly and responded, "I'd like that very much, Wyatt, but not tonight. Soon, though," she promised, and he had to be content with that. He closed his eyes as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek and murmured, "Good night, Wyatt."

The next couple of days were among the most peaceful that Wyatt had ever experienced. After the best night's sleep he'd had in more than five years, he woke up the next morning and went for a run, his thoughts swirling restlessly in his head, but in a good way. That afternoon, Wyatt was in his bedroom putting away some long-overdue laundry. His hands stilled as it suddenly occurred to him as he took a good look around that something was missing. Every scrap of information on Jessica's tragic death that he had painfully compiled over the years no longer existed, and the sheer miracle of that lightened his grateful heart.

He glanced at his phone frequently, but resisted the urge to text Lucy. She had asked him for some space, and he was determined to honor her wishes. The hours by himself were lonely though because he really missed being with Lucy. Deep down, Wyatt knew he was ready for a life with her. All he had to do was convince her of that.

Finally, on the morning of the third day, Wyatt had just gotten out of the shower after his daily run when his phone chimed as he was getting dressed. Figuring it was probably Rufus, he was thrilled to see a text from Lucy. Her message was brief and to the point, " _Can you come over for lunch today around 1:00?_ " and he nearly dropped the phone in his eagerness to reply, " _Yes._ " She immediately sent back a smiley emoji, and Wyatt breathed a sigh of happiness.

At exactly 1:00, he stood at her front door, a small bouquet of daisies clutched in his shaking hands. Wyatt had chosen a crisp blue button down shirt and his newest pair of dark jeans, with his black leather jacket, and had shaved carefully. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he felt as excited as a 16-year-old going on his first date, and smirked when he realized that it actually was his first date with Lucy.

Lucy opened the door, and his heart beat faster at her welcoming smile. She looked beautiful in a soft floral dress and a matching cardigan, with her glossy dark hair waving around her face, and damn, he had missed her so much in only two days. When she glanced down at the flowers, he stammered, "Um, these are for you," and was pleased when she shyly admitted that daisies were her favorite. "Let me put these in some water, okay?" and Wyatt followed her into the kitchen. Offering him a seat at the small table, Lucy cleared her throat, and asked, "Is it all right with you if we talk before we have lunch?" and when he solemnly nodded, she smiled and getting a vase from the cupboard for the flowers, said, "Like I imagine you have also, all I've been doing is thinking the past few days."

He waited calmly for her to continue. "As you know, I'm not very good at hiding my emotions, and I'm sure you have probably already figured out that I care about you very much." She finished fussing with the flowers and clasping her hands tightly together, finally turned to look at him. "To my shame, I can't deny that mixed in with my sincere happiness on your behalf that Jessica is actually alive in this time line, is great relief that she is someone else's wife, and not yours. And truthfully, we were both pretty quiet on the trip home, so I'm not exactly sure how you feel about that."

Wyatt looked down at the table for a moment, considering how to explain his feelings in a way that she would understand. He gazed up at her, and said, "Lucy, I have to be completely honest with you. Almost from the minute I comprehended that time travel was real, all I could think about was saving my wife. I guess I felt that if I just did the job to the best of my abilities and bided my time, there was a good chance I would someday have an opportunity to use the lifeboat and somehow change Jess's terrible fate."

"But the more time you and I spent together on these dangerous, stressful missions, the more I was attracted to you. And that scared and worried me and I fought like hell not to feel that way because I just couldn't let go of my guilt about causing Jessica's death. I had convinced myself that if I got too attached to you, that I would eventually let her go forever, and that would destroy me."

"I really thought my priorities were set and I had it all under control, and then we met Ian Fleming, and he was really hitting on you, and I was not happy to realize that I was jealous. As far as I was concerned, he was poaching big time on my historian. Have to admit, I loved the way you shut him down at the end of the mission," and he grinned when she laughed.

"And it just seemed like the more I tried to deny my attraction to you, the deeper it got. And then we had to pretend to be a couple in front of Bonnie and Clyde, and by the end of that mission, all I could think about was our kiss and lying in that bed with you. I still loved my wife and wanted to save her, but my feelings for you grew even stronger. When that bastard Flynn took you, well, you can ask Rufus or Jiya, I was like a madman. I almost went insane until you and Harry Houdini rescued us."

"I struggled every single day to choose between you and her, but finally it was the guilt that did me in. I just wanted her to have a chance to live, even if it broke my heart to give you up. After Flynn gave me Wes Gillam's name, I concocted this hare-brained scheme to go back to the night that monster was conceived, and prevent it, not with violence, but with circumstance."

"By the way, thank you again for going to bat for me with Denise Christopher and Connor Mason. Anyway, the rest you already know, except for one thing. When Jess opened the door, and I saw her for the first time in five years, I was nearly overcome with happiness, but not because I wanted her to be my wife again. I was just glad we had changed her fate, and she was alive and well. Not sure how it works out in this time line, but you saw for yourself that I was a stranger to her. And I have no desire to change that because she belongs right where she is. I think I was actually relieved that she wasn't my Jess. So, here I am, the guy who never talks about his feelings, hoping you can understand what I'm trying to say. I'm in love with you, Lucy, and want us to be together, if you'll have me."

Lucy was quiet for so long he was starting to worry, especially when a couple of tears rolled down her face. Hastily wiping the tears away, she responded, "Of course I love you, Wyatt, and want to be with you. I just need to be sure that you understand that I'm not a consolation prize in some contest, because I think I deserve better than that," her apprehensive eyes begging him to agree.

Wyatt stood up and putting his hands on her face, looked into her eyes, and said, "Lucy, I do understand, and please believe me when I tell you that Jessica was my past, and I want you to be my future. I think we are meant to be together. It's that simple. Can you give me a chance to prove myself?" Judging by the way she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, he was pretty sure he knew what her answer was. After all, as he'd already learned, some things were just inevitable.

 _A/N: Well, so this is what happened when I got writer's block while working on ch. 21 of First Steps. Yikes! Have to admit, I actually enjoyed writing these fill-in-the-blank scenes from some of my favorite episodes, and hope you enjoy reading them. My thanks and appreciation to everyone for their continued encouragement, and special thanks to Emily S. for your wonderful review of First Steps Ch. 20. :)))_


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